Tales of a Shadowed Lord
by Whatever Star
Summary: Major AU. A judgement has been passed, and a seven year old Harry has been judged worthy. While his brother prepares to take the reign of the icon of light, he must assume the mantle of a lord of Darkness.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: After much deliberation, I found that I could not really continue my last story, so it should be considered, pretty much abandoned. I decided to do a new version. This one won't really be a revision, as much as a different plot with similar details. I hope that this time, I'll be able to avoid the mistakes from last ones. It will be sporadically updated, seem somewhat similar in the beginning. It won't be nearly as blown out as the last one, and hopefully, less confusion as well. Pairings are _NOT _decided, and possible quite a number of ways. Don't beg, threaten or insult me about finishing my other story, because I wont listen. Thanks for those that decide to read this. Again, parts of this story will have similar elements as "World of Darkness" by Charcoal feather.

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**

"Please Professor, is there any other way?" asked a crying woman. The old headmaster let out a heavy sigh. The war had taken its toll on him, and this decision would no doubt heavily impact the lives of many.

"I'm sorry Lily, James. But you know of the prophecy. There can be no doubt. And once all of you arrive at the hidden island, you will not be able to leave for at least a few years. I will see to it that your other son finds a good home, but the fact of the matter is, you cannot risk traveling with another infant in this manner to that location. Edward is already guaranteed to live from the prophecy, but Harry may not survive." Privately, the old man had another concern. He feared that with the prophecy known to Lily, James, and their friends may neglect their other son in favor of the now proclaimed prophesied chosen one. Oh, by all means, they were all some of the best people he knew. But he also knew that they were human, and they were young. The war had made some more mature, true, but, they were less touched by the war then many others. And even then, their generation had not been holed up in either Hogwarts or their homes for most of their lives, they had still had little experience living. No, better to let the child with the Lily's beautiful green eyes live a somewhat happy and normal life. Hmmm, perhaps living as a muggle for a while in some squib family might be good, so he can enjoy a little of both worlds. From his personal experiences, childhood as a muggle tended to be far more fun then as a wizard. He smiled slightly at the memory, despite the grave circumstances that he was confronted with. Walking around, he silently offered his support to the crying couple. 'Its for the best' he thought to himself, even as he cried on the inside…

* * *

Pain, Misery, and Suffering. His three constant companions, the child thought bitterly to himself. But he supposed, it couldn't be helped, the three were linked together in an unbreakable chain, when one is in pain, one suffers, and as one suffer, he feels misery, by being miserable, he suffers pain. it's a vicious cycle, but he's lived by it for as long as he could remember, well, perhaps not that long. Then again, what did he know, he was only a "worthless freak", a seven year old one at that. There was a time, barely remembered, though still at the edge of memory, when he was almost happy. It was when he was perhaps two, he didn't really know. He could only remember some vague recollection of two figures that seemed to be his parents, and that was all that he could remember. How did he know he was happy then? He didn't know for sure, but for some reason, there was a strange surge of emotion when he remembered it, and it is as he close as happy he's come. He was, as far as he knew so far, Harry Potter, freakish nephew of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, a child of seven.

In the cupboard beneath the stairs his relative has given him to lie in, young Harry lie on his cot, which though might seem cramped, was actually relatively comfortable to him, with his rather small body, even for his age, and his amusement inducing short height. Shaggy black hair sprayed around his head in a messy tangle, which, though far from a pony tail, was longer than what any "normal" and "decent" person would have, but his aunt has, for whatever reason, never been able to keep the horrific hair cuts she so desperately tries to impose upon him. Why in hell's name might some one his age be thinking in such depressing, yet philosophical, thoughts? When one ask such a question, one must realize that through pain, people, especially children, learns quickly. No not a quick slap on their hand. It is when you are beaten again and again, violated in unimagined ways, once shattered but rose again on your own, that you truly learn, and take into your soul that lesson. This has been the life of young Harry. Pain and suffering has taught him to be attentive, to be resourceful, and most importantly, to reduce his suffering, In order to have done so, he lost shreds of some innocence, to become more aware, of a larger picture, though most of his time, is spent on the minute to minute survival, what could he do right now to avoid punishment, if only to lessen it just a bit, or how he could create an opportunity to avoid it.

Yet, despite this, his only comforts had always been at night, when his aunt and uncle and their pig of a son slept, unwilling to lose a second of sleep to the ungrateful brat. It was at night, in the darkness, when the lights had been turned out, that he could finally have some semblance of peace, though the paranoia he had gained by living with his relative, limited that to degree. After all, it was not too uncommon for his uncle to burst in the midst of night, drunk and angry, seeking Harry for whatever misfortunes had befallen him, or he had thought befallen him, and taking his rage and frustrations out on him. Well, Harry supposed that wasn't completely true. He did have one true friend ,Michelle , but there was only so much time they could meet, which was in class, and the odd few hours Harry manage to sneak out. She knew something was happening to him, but she knew not what. She did not notice the sign of abuse that he showed, after all, she was only seven, and even Harry himself was barely aware of the fact he was being abused. He knew that some people weren't treated that way, but others were, be it by his uncle, or some of the bullies at school.

But we have strayed from the point of our discussion, which had been the reason of the lad's train of thought. It came out of abuse, but was specifically brought on today by the furious whipping that his aunt had administered to him. It has been a while since she was so angry, but to be honest with himself, Harry wasn't surprised. Dudley, his portly cousin, had been showing off to his friends by, doing the usual, beating up Harry. But it was when he moved for Michelle that Harry actually fought back with a vicious kick to Dudley's spot between his legs, causing Dudley to release Michelle and fall to the ground holding himself. Needless to say, when his aunt heard what had happened from an extremely exaggerated and altered story of Dudley, she was less than pleased. But Harry could fee it in his bones, the worse had yet to come. It was when his uncle came home that he should truly fear. He knew, knew from knowing and befriending Michelle, what hatred was even now as a small child, and it filled and cemented in his fragile heart. Michelle was kind and friendly to him, but yet the Dursley's were the exact opposite. He had long accepted their punishment, never quite feeling much save fear, and perhaps anger, yet it was not when he truly had something to measure against, that he knew hatred, or at least he believed it to be hatred.

BANG-Damn, here he comes "BOY, YOU WILL LEARN YOUR PLACE EVEN IF I HAVE TO BEAT YOU TO DEATH!" roared Vernon as he slammed one of Dudley's baseball bat into Harry's gut. 'Shit he's serious' thought Harry, though with a touch of calm that he knew he shouldn't have. He did not want to die, he wanted to chance to avenge himself. This night was to change Harry, it was to be a night that would determine his future, that could change his very being, be it for better or worse….

Hours later, Harry curled up on his cot, gasping in pain, though quietly as he could muster lest he wake and anger his uncle once more. A small stream of tears riveted down his face. Bitterly he cursed his uncle, his 'family', and even his life as a whole. As once more, bitterness and hatred swell in his heart as it often does after circumstances such as these occurred, and he remember the only time he's met Michelle's mother and her caring ways, then thought of his own family. However, tonight he felt himself shivering slightly and sickened a great deal, though he knew not why. His uncle had an odd gleam in his eyes that told Harry something wrong, very wrong would happen soon. And so it did. Now, near midnight, Harry suddenly heard a soft click of his cupboard being unlocked and softly opened, almost as if whoever it was did not want to wake the occupants of the house. Even from the sparse amount of moonlight that flooded from the windows of the kitchen, and into the hallway of his cupboard, he could make out the outline of his uncle. As a first blow struck his rising face, an odd thought crossed his mind as it swarmed with pain. _'Full moon tonight'_

He must of blacked out for a few minutes, but was strangely aware of it himself. He felt rather than saw himself in a darkness, devoid of, well, even darkness itself. Suddenly he let loose a blood curling scream, a pain spread through him for no observable reason to him. He kept screaming, and suddenly realized by some strange instinct, that he could feel this darkness, this this, this emptiness was being sucked into him, becoming a part of him, yet he could not truly comprehend why he would hold this believe, but he knew in his very soul, that this was true, that this darkness was seeping into the crevices of his soul.

Slowly the pain started to fade, and he opened his eyes. His entire body was aching, his head was pounding, and even his innards seemed to throb. He could tell there was no light, yet he could see his uncle clearly, without his the blur that had long plagued his sight. For some reason his uncle was starting to unzip his pants, and Harry instinctively knew something was wrong when the monster he called an uncle advanced on him. By some miracle that seemed related to the odd sensation he had just experienced, he felt himself shift into something, and his uncle's unfocused eyes seemed to bulge as he spun around, as if he could no longer see Harry.

Harry suddenly knew instinctively how to, for lack of better word, move around in this void once more. He saw and felt himself stepping out of the darkness and behind a tree he and Michelle often hid on top of. He looked up and saw a red, full moon. He felt restless, even now. But at the same time, he felt extremely worried. Even though he was only seven, he knew that if and when he went back home, his uncle might just kill him like he killed that poor owl he once saw Uncle Vernon kill. Where could he go? He had thought to run away to Michelle's house, but then her parents said that they would get into trouble, and he would be back with the Dursley's anyways. Social service in these parts were notoriously lax and even rumored to be corrupt. He couldn't stay and go back to the Dursleys, nor could he risk Michelle losing her parents because they took him in.

_ 'But with this new power, maybe, just maybe, we can stay as friends even after I run away' _he thought to himself. Silently he stepped back into the shadows to thought of his best and only friends bedroom and came out. In the soft light of that now seemed strange compared the red moon earlier, he found himself smiling softly at his beautiful friend, but with great sadness. Her dirty blond hair sprayed her head and as he gently shook her from her sleep, he put his finger to his mouth, signaling for her to stay quiet as her own pair of soft green eyes stared back, wide as it register her who had awaken her. Her own eyes were many shades lighter than Harry's own dark emerald, and seemed to have a few specks of blue.

"Harry, what are you doing?" she asked in a hushed whisper.

"Sorry, its just, something impossible just happened to me…." and so he told her his story, and even gave her a experimental demonstration, stretching forth a black tendril of darkness. She sat, wide eyes and staring at him, before hugging him somewhat shyly when she saw a small streak of tear roll down his cheek. She heard him sniffle before telling him it would be alright, just like her mother did for her when she had a nightmare. When she asked what it was he cried a little more.

"I..I have runaway, Michelle, I can't stay here, we won't be able to see each other, for who knows how long. Please, can we still be friends?" he stuttered out through his sobs.

He closed his eyes and dug into her embrace, unwilling to pull back in case she rejected like everyone else, or see the sadness in her eyes, knowing how much pain she would go through. She tried to gain his attention, but to no avails, until fifteen minutes later he pulled back, a blush gracing his pale face at the lack of control, unable to look his best friend in the eye. An awkward silence followed, before Michelle hugged him fiercely and whispered into his ears.

"We'll always be friends, best of friends. And, and, you can come visit sometimes maybe once you control your powers, or we can just write or, or e-mail each other, my mum said that she would teach me, something about being a necessary skill for any modern independent woman or something like that," she then kissed him on his cheek like her mother often did for her when she was distraught, even is she herself was crying softly now. It made her sad that her friend was like this. He almost never cried. It was always him trying to help her with her problems and fears. They stood like that for some time, locked in a tight embrace until they heard a shuffle of foot steps coming from the master bedroom. It took them a second, then they realized it was one of Michelle's parents. After one final hug goodbye, Harry sneaked back out the way he came and back onto the street as Michelle crawled back into bed and pretended to be asleep. She would confess what she knew to her parents either that weekend, or maybe a few days later, that way, Harry would have enough time to run away. Harry promised to send her a letter when he could, and they would figure out how to stay in touch then.

* * *

Yet as Harry stole back into the Dursley's house to find some paper and a pen to write down Michelle's address in case he ever forgot it, though that was unlikely, an old man in a brightly, neon orange robe was walking down the street towards Privet Drive. When he arrived, Harry was in front of Michelle's house, copying down a number and address he would probably never forget anyways.

Dumbledore found himself joined by two ministry Aurors sent to investigate the huge surge of magic found in the area. He shook his head and told them to spread out and search would be the best. Then he noticed a small child standing some street down the way and made his way towards him. The child looked up as if he felt the three men approaching him and seemed to tense in anxiousness. Dumbledore had never seen the child since he left him at the Dursley door step, along with a letter that claimed Lily and James to be dead. But he could see so much of Lily in the boy, and some obvious trace of James in the child that he knew right away that it was Harry.

"A tad late to be out for someone your age, Mr. Potter?" Dumbledore asked in his customary twinkle, though on the inside, he felt some shock and concern looking at the malnourished looking body and gaunt but distinctively young face. The boy seemed even more uneasy by the fact that he knew his name. Dumbledore seemed to blink as if suddenly remembering himself.

"Ahh, but where are my manners, I am Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards. And I believe that you should probably return to your family before they realize you are gone," Dumbledore said with a slight reprimand, though still warm.

Now Harry was knew he was in trouble. He didn't quite understand the whole bit of the man's title, but he could accept magic as what he was doing. But he did know that he couldn't let these men make him go back to the Dursleys. Adults had never listened to reason in all his experiences, so he had only one choice. Suddenly, he turned and ran, trying desperately to call for that shadow. The Aurors, feeling a surge of magic, shot stunners at the boy to stop him from getting out of control with wild magic. Instead, it was slapped right back by what, they could not tell, but the boy disappeared. It would be years before they would meet him again, but this memory would forever be ingrained into Dumbledore's memory even as he obliviated to the two Aurors….


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Well, this story's been well received so far. Like I said, this story will have, at times, very similar plots as my other stories, but vastly differing at others. For now it'll be a bit slow, but it's going to speed up real soon, as the main story, will be set in the time of Voldemort's second rise. It should be warned, Harry is not going to be very well liked by many, and there is more than what appears to be happening. In some respects, Voldemort won't truly be Harry's greatest foe in this story, yet in others, he will. That's kinda vague, I know, but hey, I can't tell too much. If you have any suggestions, please let me know. Constructive criticism won't hurt anything but my pride, but, I'll accept it. Hope you like this!

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**

It had been almost three weeks. Almost three weeks since that fateful night, when he stepped from the shadows of his old life, and unknowingly, into true darkness. Immediately after escaping those that he has now been told to be wizards, he had eventually decided to hide in a cave in the forest nearby he once found during one of Dudley's "Harry Hunting" games and got lost in the woods for almost a week before the Dursleys bothered to call the police when Michelle's parents asked about him, at least until he could find somewhere else to stay, which he now had. The night after, he met Fiona.

_Flashback_

_ "Come out wizard, we know you are there," stated one of the three figures standing around the fire that Harry had noticed and come to explore. He didn't know whether the figure was bluffing, but even if she wasn't, he wasn't sure if he should reveal himself. A few moments passed before the figure rushed towards his hiding spot with such speed, he himself was barely able to avoid her with his newly found speed, though it seemed that he was merely shoved out of the bushes. He landed in a slight crouch he had seen in some movie._

_ "Don't, I'll defend myself," he threatened, with a noticeable shiver in his voice. The figures laughed loudly. Though they were normally very composed, it was hilarious that this tiny brat was threatening them. _

_ "I believe most would be begging for mercy right now, as you seem to be in little position to 'hurt' us," one of the male figures said as he revealed his unnaturally pale face, and bare a pair of fangs. _

_ "It has been too long since I've tasted wizard blood," the vampire said softly as he gazed with a hint of glazed lust in his eyes. Harry tensed, and reached for the darkness within himself, before calling out to the various shadows that fell around them, created by the small fire and the night itself. The female vampire now looked around, though outwardly calm, inwardly nervous and unease, making her even more uneasy as to why she would feel unease. The now seemingly glowing eyes of amber didn't help, especially how it seemed to glow without light coming out. As the very shadows started to dance to the boy's silent command, she felt her predator instinct rise up, fight or flight. Her other companions had already chosen to fight. She watched in curiosity, and a bit of surprise, as the shadowy tendrils protruding from the boy's shoulders proceeded to rip her companions to pieces. He then turned towards her, though hesitantly, she put her hands up in a gesture of peace for now. After a few seconds of indecision, the tendrils settled for a more passive gesture, but remained. _

_ They stared at one another for some time, during which, the vampiress had to fight to maintain control. The beast within seemed to rage and cry out restlessly as the shadows continue to swirl and the strange power the boy display rolled off in a somewhat subtle wave. When she finally fully came back under control, she decided to seek some information._

_ "Tell me wizard, who are you with such strange powers? Or are you a wizard at all?" she asked in the cold, soft voice vampires nearly always spoke with. The boy tried to hide his emotions, and for one his apparent age, it was at the very least, an admirable effort, but she could see the mixture of fear, distrust, and was it horror at what he had done? She herself felt no lost for the two. She knew them, sure, being five hundred some years old gave you plenty of time to meet clan mates, but truth be told, bonds and attachments were rare and few in between, even amongst clan mates. _

_ Harry was in a bit of dilemma. The only things he could think of to refer to wizards would be those people that tried to make him go back to the Dursleys'. If she knew who he was, would she do the same? Better safe than sorry he supposed. But then what would he answer, hmmm. Then he had a hasty idea, one that was inspired, admittedly, by something rather ridiculous but hey, if it works it works._

_ "Revan, and I don't really know. But who and what are you?" he answered. He had grown up learning to lie for his own wellbeing, so it pretty much came as naturally as the truth. Unfortunately, but unknown to him, the vampiress wasn't sure that he was telling the truth. But the boy's special powers, it would be best if she brought him to her Elder._

_ "You may call me Fiona, a vampire of the Ravoc Clan. But you know child, perhaps my Elder could help you find what you are," she offered, with a strained tone of warmth that she had to force, though not apparent. Time stood still for that moment, and the clouds blocked the moon for just that moment of silence, as if the night itself was watching with hushed silence for this event to play out. As the clouds moved so the moon light softly added to the now barely lit fire, the newly dubbed Revan agreed, but refused her to carry him, only he would follow her._

_End of Flashback_

It had been surreal, and unbelievably terrifying when he entered the cavern system that the Ravoc Clan had laid claim to, to meet and face the Elder, where he stood, with dozens, perhaps hundreds of vampires watching as he faced judgment.

_Flashback_

_ Revan felt the shadows still at the tip of his call, though only in some primitive, desperate as it had been since that fateful night. But something in this place struck fear into his heart, and even with Fiona's pledge to safeguard him, he remained weary. The congregation that had gathered did not help, but nonetheless, he knew, in truth, that he had little choice. He couldn't honestly say that he had come up with any other ideas as to how he could survive. He could have tried to live off the streets, but after the horror stories that both the Dursleys and the novels he had read, he really didn't want to risk himself like that. But not only that, he had believed that he may at least be able to escape alive with his new powers, after how easily he dealt with the first two vampires. So, he had to admit to himself, it was likely a case of both desperations, and now looking back, a bit of arrogance that had brought him here. _

_ The Elder of the Ravoc Clan was a man nearly impossible to describe, yet he was all that was expected of his title, and perhaps more. It was impossible to truly describe him, as countless distinct features, though difficult to see individually, combined for an awesome effect. His eyes held a wisdom and age that seemed to make the world young once more. But the sheer power that this man was giving off through the darkness, it nearly made Revan's knees shake. Still, Revan looked into the Elder's eyes, as Fiona stood to the side. _

_ "Is this it?" the ancient vampire asked his fellow vampire in vampiric, an odd yet beautiful language long lost to mortal memories._

_ "Elder, the wizard is gifted with a dark power. Whatever it was, this mere child was able to slay my companions tonight with it."_

_ "Is that so?" _

_ The room fell into silence once more as clueless Harry stood, still matching the Elder's piercing stare, completely confused as to what the weird sounds they are making is supposed to be, but he tensed once both stopped speaking, and neither had addressed him yet. Suddenly, the Elder hissed something, and Revan's now enhanced reaction, ducked as a pair of clawed hands swiped where his head would have been, before calling for the darkness to cover him before he felt an incredible amount of impact coming from both sides, each due to a separate vampire Revan saw in the corner of his eyes. The vampires backed off slightly, before two tendrils of darkness struck out of the receding darkness around Revan at the first vampire, but before it struck, it was stopped. By none other than the Elder. _

_ The immortal creature now gazed at Harry with a calculating look, while his clan around him seemed to tense as each felt a ripple of primal instinct within. The Darkness, it was stirring their souls. Something ancient called out to them, reawaked, but just the same, in deep down, in the heart of hearts, just as Fiona had earlier that night, those present could feel the echo of an ancient evil that none could recognize, yet in darkest depths of their souls, they knew it as one knew their most ravishing lover. As the Elder held up a hand, calling off the vampires to stand down, he asked that Revan be shown a guest room immediately, as dawn was soon approaching._

_End of Flashback_

Following that Revan was promised by the Elder, that he knew of what he was, and that he had a great and terrible destiny to come. But, he felt that Revan had neither the power, nor the experience to truly comprehend it yet. But Revan would have to seek his own path, until he was ready, then he was to either seek the Elder out, or if he was no longer alive, he was to seek the Elder of one of then thirteen traditional Clans that still survives to this day, from whom, would tell him off his destiny to come. He was offered sanctuary for a week or two, at the end of which, the vampire would get in contact with friends who would see to his care until he knew of what he was going to do.

So, he had spent the better part of the next two weeks within what he learned to be the Ravoc Clan's main cavern city. It was an elaborate and sprawling series of halls and chambers, with rooms and such carved out of the rocks of the earth. The whole place was smoothed out in all of the inner parts, elegantly designed, yet sinister and silent no matter when, a trademark of vampires. The outer parts of the system were largely rough tunnels that seemed natural, with sharp turns and stalagmites, odd boulders and holes that were meant to disguise the cave should any pass its wards, and if that happened, served for places of ambush if need ever came to defend the home of the Ravoc clan. It was, however, not exactly as populated as Revan had expected it too, as vampires couldn't breed, they had to turn other mortals. The Clan had been very selective of who was allowed to sire, and who those sires were. Even then, many were housed in one of the outlying gatherings of vampires, either a place for vampires in general, or merely by themselves in their own homes before they were turned.

As Revan thought of the hidden complex, he couldn't help but think of yet another moment that now defined his life.

_Flash back_

_ Harry had been here for a week now, with Fiona, as his only friend, at least to him. She didn't seem to reciprocate the feeling, but nonetheless, she, and the Elder, were the only ones he had regular contact and actively spoke to him, even if it were mostly answering his questions, or instructing him. Fiona had been assigned to instruct him in vampiric customs, language, and even a few basic skills of the vampires, such as hand to hand and dagger fighting, though this, he would only be taught enough so that he wouldn't hurt himself should he tried either of these._

_ Night had come again, and as Fiona opened the door to his room, Revan could almost feel the curious, even pensive light in her eyes. It had existed ever since they first met, and since his stay here, it had remained, or even grown more prominent. He had asked her about it once, but all she did was smirk slightly at him, and that had been that. But tonight she told him that they were to begin on a mind art of the sort…_

_ As they stared into each other's eyes, Harry suddenly felt something break through, touching and twisting parts of him, that he never knew off. The part of him that had for the past week and a half commanded the darkness drew up and begin to assault the invading presence, more specifically, now that Harry recognized, as Fiona. He felt an ache, small at first, but growing into a burning pain that spread through his veins, even as this happened, he could feel the darkness within trying to destroy the intruder, trapping it, and slowly, but continuously strike blow after blow at it. He willed it to stop, but could only go so far as Fiona's presence fought to leave his mind. Through their combined efforts, she was able to leave before Harry passed out from the pain he was feeling. _

_End of Flashback_

It was explained to him the next night, that the Elder had wanted to see if he had any natural defenses, and that Fiona did not mean to do what she did, and that was to try to turn him. He didn't truly believe this. Fiona, for the few days he had known her, was always in control, and not only that, she never did something unless there was a reason, even if he never knew what those reasons were.

She had succeeded, only in a limited capacity, to turn him. He could not live off of blood, nor did he require it, but he could gain some powers from it. His already phenomenal speed had increased to almost matching Fiona's, though that was only with the aid of the darkness. But both his new speed and a vastly increased strength required the same magic that empowered vampires to their own deadly capacity. Blood. More specifically, human blood, be it of magical variety, such as wizards and witches, or veelas, and even some other breeds such as Elves. He could restore himself by drinking their blood, and he was taken to hunt twice. Though it sickened him, slaying of others to feast off of, the power, the sheer power of it was intoxicating. But as he was not undead as the vampires, he did not need it. He could merely recover, given quite a bit of rest. But the vampires could not teach him to control these powers, that one must learn on their own, as all vampires' bodies reacted differently to the change. Some lost their ability to use magic, others, previously muggle, could cast spells. It would be his task to master these basic skills, so when he returned, he would be able to grasp the powers that vampires knew of to fulfill his destiny, if he ever chose to return.

Yet he knew, that the little time he had spent with Fiona had been, in its own way, a friendly comfort, especially compare to what he usually went through, and for that, he knew he would come back if he could to see her. He had written a brief, but heartfelt letter, and as he didn't quite trust any of the vampires, sent it during the day while most if not all had been asleep.

_Dear Michelle,_

_ To begin with, please don't worry about me. I know its been almost two weeks, but I have found a friend who's looking out for me right now. Can you believe it, I think I found a friend! Her name is Fiona, and you wont believe it, but she's a vampire. I'm staying with her right now, but she can't take keep me, so she's arranging a meeting with a friend of hers who might be able to help me. _

_ Truth be told, I have missed you terribly, so much so I was almost tempted to visit you again. But some there were these police men who had stopped me that night I left, and seems to follow me everywhere, so I think if they somehow found out that I was at your place, they might try to do something to you and your parents. But, so we can see each other again one day, I have to stay away for now. But don't worry, I'll try to stay in touch. Whatever happens, know that you'll always be my bestest friend, that no matter what you'll always have me. There's a pendent that should be with this, I have a matching set. I'm told that if you ever really need me, you just have to hold it and say "Blessed be" and I'll know, both pendants will warm up more than usual. Don't know what the phrase means, but oh well. It seems to work. _

_Missing you,_

_Harry Potter_

Tonight, he would meet his traveling companions for until he found his path. The Gypsies.


End file.
